Grieving,--if aught that's modish ever grieves,--
Over the unreturning chance. Alas!
Their hopes are all cut down ere falls the grass.
That with corn-harvest might have seen full blow.
See how foiled Shopdom flies, a huddled mass
Of disappointment, hurrying from the foe,
Who all their Season's prospects shatters, and lays low.

Last month beheld them full of lusty life.
Beauty, and Wealth, and Pleasure, proudly gay;
This music brings the signal-sound of strife,
This month the marshalling to arms. Away!
Party's magnificently sham array
The muster of Mode's mob will soon have rent.
Play on, O Phantom, ominously play!
Death as the Foe! They fly before thee, blent,
Maid, Matron, Masher, Mime, in general discontent!

* * * * *

[Illustration: THE DARWINIAN THEORY--VARIATION FROM ENVIRONMENT.

"KNOCKED 'EM IN THE OLD KENT KOAD!"

"ATTRACTED ALL EYES AT CHURCH PARADE."]

* * * * *

ADVICE GRATIS.